


Nightlight

by feidlimid



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Another Jeon Wonwoo Has a Cat Fic, Dancer Kwon Soonyoung, Everyone's An Artist Because Why Not, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, New York City, Non-Linear Narrative, Novelist Jeon Wonwoo, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Yoon Jeonghan, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:54:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29236404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feidlimid/pseuds/feidlimid
Summary: It’s just that...for Wonwoo, there’s always been aThe One. Call him childish, naive...a romantic. But if he’s honest with himself, he’s been waiting for the butterflies to turn into holding hands where your fingers slot together just right, to turn into kisses that feel like fireworks, to turn into I love yous under the moonlight, to turn into wedding bells.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 37
Collections: South x Southwest: A Soonyoung/Wonwoo Prompt Fest





	1. out the door

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [haeyoungs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/haeyoungs/pseuds/haeyoungs) in the [soonwoo2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/soonwoo2020) collection. 



> _summary: wonwoo is a romance writer, hopeless romantic. soonyoung is his neighbor next door, who also happens to be his crush. one day, soonyoung asks wonwoo about who inspires his newest novel, and wonwoo feels like dying because it's all about him._  
>    
> _more detailed: i imagine this to be kinda fluff but angst is also okay!! friends to lovers maybe_
> 
> _DO NOT INCLUDE: a/b/o!! noncon. rape. violence. drugs. major character death. cheating. SAD ENDING. WHY WOULD U END THIS W SAD ENDING. bdsm play. daddy kink (PLS NO!!)_
> 
> _rating range: no preference. you wanna make this dirty & explicit? go for it!_
> 
> Thank you so much to ao3 user haeyoungs for this prompt. It's wound up being largely fluffy, with a splash of angst, which I thiiiiink fits the bill. It's also wound up being a weird love letter to feeling out of place, US East Coast urban living, and the family you find along the way...I hope you like it!
> 
> title from [Nightlight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zcXoyJfxspc) by Fountains of Wayne.

“ _It all started with a box…_ ” Wonwoo frowns and shakes his head...no, that’s not it. He backspaces, cursor blinking mockingly, as the clock in the corner of his screen switches from 2:59 to 3:00...AM.

“ _It was a bright June afternoon…_ ” 

“Argh…” A frustrated groan escapes his lips, and he looks over apologetically to where his cat, Ophelia, has opened one sleepy eye in surprise. She gets up and stretches before unceremoniously hopping on his lap and finding a cozy position to resume her nap. 

“Must be nice, eat when you want, sleep when you want,” Wonwoo murmurs while absentmindedly running a hand between her ears and down her back, getting a warm purr back in response. Unlike his furry companion, he has deadlines and expectations, and a relentless editor in the form of Lee Jihoon breathing down his neck. Wonwoo sighs and moves his hands back to the keyboard, ready for another attempt.

“ _Let me get that for you…”_

***********

“Let me get that for you!” 

Wonwoo almost stumbles underneath the boxes he’s unwisely piled above his line of vision. He catches himself just in time to see a pair of hands reach up to support the boxes--marked with big red “FRAGILE” stamps--before they fall to the ground.

“Oh, no, sorry, it’s fine! I got it...just let me...” Wonwoo grimaces as he reaches a hand around to grasp the doorknob. He just barely sets the packages on the ground before a streak of black dashes between his feet and out into the hall.

“Oh goddammit, Ophelia!”

“I got ‘em!” Before Wonwoo can protest, the pair of hands--well, really, the person they’re connected to--are trotting down the hallway after his wayward cat. He knows it was a mistake to attempt to move into a third floor walk-up with only a couple of friends to help him. But there was no way he was taking up his parents’ offer to pay for a moving company as his graduation present. He’s the one choosing to move to New York with no real prospects…just a couple of short stories and what most of his parents’ friends think is a pipe dream. And if he can’t manage moving himself into an apartment by himself...well what can he manage? 

Wonwoo kneels over his boxes, wiping a little sweat from his brow, and steels himself for the task of corralling his cat back into the apartment. Before he can step more than two feet out the door, he’s greeted with the sight of Ophelia, the ball of black fur he had taken weeks to coax out from her hiding place behind his dorm, resting peacefully in the tanned and well-toned arms of a stranger. 

“I think I’ve got something of yours?” The stranger quirks an eyebrow, before flashing a smile and depositing Ophelia back into Wonwoo’s arms. He briefly glares down at her, as she yawns and settles into his hold. 

“Yeah, I uh...thanks. Thanks! Really sorry about that.” 

“No worries! I’d want to explore my surroundings too if I were somewhere new...you’re new here, right? I just assumed what with the boxes?” The other man waves his hand vaguely in the direction of the door, and Wonwoo can’t help but feel a little fascinated by the grace in his movement. Jean shorts, a gray T-shirt he’d clearly cut the sleeves off of himself, hair hidden under a backwards baseball cap...basically one of the frat boys Wonwoo had always avoided on campus. But something about the way he holds his body gives Wonwoo pause. He couldn’t be much older than him, maybe younger even, and already so self-possessed.

“Yeah, just uh..getting settled in,” Wonwoo stammers out, feeling oddly self-conscious. His ratty white t-shirt is already sticking to his skin, even though the real heat of summer has yet to settle in. 

“I’m Soonyoung.” Wonwoo starts a little bit, as the shorter man peers around him to take a quick glance through the open door. “I’m guessing you’re in 312? I’m 310...right next door. Are you just here for the summer, or…”

“No, no, uh, for the year. Well, I hope longer. I just finished at Oberlin. Oh, uh...I’m Wonwoo.” He takes the hand that Soonyoung’s reached out in his direction and tries to ignore the slight bit of clamminess that hangs on his skin after they separate their hands again.

“College boy, huh?” Soonyoung replies in a goofy voice.

Wonwoo runs a hand through his hair, making his bangs fall into his eyes. “Yeah, I guess. I mostly write, uh, I’m a writer...trying to be anyway.”

“Huh, this building just attracts artsy weirdos.” Soonyoung replies self-depracatingly. “My roommate, Minghao, he paints. Gets shows sometimes, too! I’m a dancer...well, like I teach it. Hip hop, some Zumba at the local Y, some other things. Wanna get my own studio someday, but that’s a long way off...I mean, you know what the rent’s like here.” Tilting his head a bit, Soonyoung shifts his weight from one leg to the other.

Wonwoo grimly chuckles, “Yeah, it’s no joke.” A dancer, huh. His eyes wander a bit to the planes of Soonyoung’s torso, exposed by the deep cuts he’d made to the shirt. Wonwoo chooses to chalk it up to a writer’s observational skill, rather than any prurient interest. 

He’d gained a reputation for being cold in his college writing group, though it wasn’t like he hadn’t had his share of hookups or short-lived _things_ in the last four years. It’s just that...for Wonwoo, there’s always been a _The One_. Call him childish, naive...a romantic. But if he’s honest with himself, he’s been waiting for the butterflies to turn into holding hands where your fingers slot together just right, to turn into kisses that feel like fireworks, to turn into I love yous under the moonlight, to turn into wedding bells. Not that anyone would know that. A writer should keep these things close to their chest...write what they know, not necessarily what they feel. So semester after semester he’d turn in stories about his childhood in Changwon, growing up a third-culture kid after his dad got transferred to the States in middle school, the awkwardness of readjusting to high school in Seoul for just one year before graduation…

“But if you’re a writer, I bet you need your quiet. I promise I don’t get too loud or anything.” Soonyoung blushes a little. “I mean I like I don’t have parties and stuff...just a few friends over sometimes, and my roommate, of course.”

“Yeah? That’s great, well it’s just me and…” Wonwoo’s words get cut off.

“And I did not get your name! Forgive my rudeness. You would be?” Soonyoung leans down to reach the cat’s eye level, and all of a sudden, Wonwoo feels like an intruder on a meet-cute he didn’t even realize he was participating in.

“She’s uh, she’s Ophelia.”

“Pleased to meet your acquaintance, milady. If you have any trouble with him, you know where to find me.” Soonyoung shoots a cheeky grin back up at Wonwoo while giving a quick pat to the soft fur on Ophelia’s head, and Wonwoo can’t stop a blush from beginning to spread across his face. Most of his roommates had *rightfully* seen Ophelia as a somewhat demonic familiar whose aura matched the tone of the moody stories Wonwoo would share in writing workshops...but Soonyoung...seemed to be a different species altogether.

“If you need any help settling in or anything, let me know. I’ve got the best pizza joints on speed dial, though honestly, you look like more of a salad guy…” Soonyoung trails off, contemplating Wonwoo’s body in a way that makes him feel somehow over-exposed.

“Yeah, sure, uh thanks. Gotta eat, I…”

“Wonwoo-hyung, can you like actually help with _your_ move instead of playing with your demon cat or whatever?” Seungkwan’s peeved voice echoes from the staircase landing, and Wonwoo feels vaguely relieved at the interruption. So Boo Seungkwan might consider his summer internship in the city secondary to his primary task of nagging Wonwoo to keep up with his meals, but it was going to be nice to have a familiar face around...at least for a few months, while he gets settled. 

“Wonu, please, he’s _scaring me_.” 

Down the stairwell, Jun looks up with pleading eyes as Seungkwan tries to restrain himself from a further fit of pique.

“I...I should go uh, but thanks, thanks again for grabbing her. I’ll see you around, Soonyoung?” 

“Yeah, I’m around.” Soonyoung snickers a little, turning to head back into his apartment. “If you need any help, seriously, just tap on the wall.”

“I..uh, I will. Thanks.”

After a 20-second lecture to an unrepentant cat and firmly shutting the bedroom door, Wonwoo heads down the stairs to help with a particularly unwieldy bookcase.


	2. down the hall

_BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP_

Rubbing sleep out of his eyes, Wonwoo groggily pats around his sheets for his phone. _10:41 AM_ He doesn’t really remember when he managed to cover the six feet from his desk to the bed, but at least it wasn’t another morning waking up with a crick in his neck and drool on the keyboard. First on the agenda, _check for angry email from Jihoon, make coffee, read the paper…_ Wonwoo knows that still receiving a physical paper is a pretentious affectation at best...but there’s something about the ritual, the routine, the reason to open his door at least once a day even when he’s in crunch mode, that makes it worth it. As he stands up, everything aches a little...trying to pull all-nighters well into your mid-twenties, clearly a mistake. He runs a hand through his hair, ascertaining his level of bedhead, before stepping into the bathroom to throw some water on his face.

It’s a shame he hasn’t trained the cat to open doors and get the paper...though giving her skills that typically require opposable thumbs would probably cause more trouble than it's worth. There’s a rustle as he leans down to pick up the paper, and he feels his hand come into contact with plastic instead of newsprint. As he lifts up the bag, the aroma of kimchi fried rice immediately hits his nostrils, summoning a growl from his stomach. A note’s attached to the blue Tupperware, and Wonwoo smiles as he notices the package of cat treats snuck in next to it. 

“ _Deadline or not, you gotta eat. Fighting! I hope this manages to fill you up. - SY_ ”

***********

“ _I’ll fill you only. I’ll completely fill you only._ ”

Wonwoo feels like he’s going to lose his mind as the thumping beat of “Lucifer” makes his bedroom wall shake. “ _‘I don’t get too loud,’ my ass…_ ” He’s only been in the apartment for two weeks, really only just now settling in to start editing his manuscripts and job hunt before the three-month advance on rent from his parents runs out. He breathes a sigh of relief as the song finally ends, only to be met with yet another bass-heavy K-Pop track from nearly a decade ago blasting from next door.

“That’s it,” he mutters under his breath, scraping his chair back from the desk and steeling himself to go over for a nice, neighborly chat.

When the door finally opens after a minute of polite knocks that quickly turned into more insistent bangs, he’s greeted by a face he doesn’t recognize.

“Yooo, you’re late! Seokmin, come get a drink for…” The stranger looks him up and down, then throws an arm around his shoulder and drags him inside. “Specs, here!” 

The stuffiness in the room immediately suffocates Wonwoo. A window at the back corner of the living room is cracked open, but it does basically nothing to stave off the mid-June heat that’s only getting compounded by the number of bodies in the room. Two houseplants that look straight out of a millennial pink and rose gold Instagram grid frame a lumpy brown couch, and rainbow Christmas lights awkwardly run along the wall’s crown moulding, before trailing into an overloaded power strip. Soonyoung is nowhere to be seen, but the aforementioned “Seokmin” is quickly approaching with a cup of punch and a tipsy smile. 

“Jeonghannie-hyung, you know it’s not nice to give people nicknames,” he slurs while carefully trying to slip the punch into Wonwoo’s unwilling hand.

“I mean if he’s a friend of Soonyoung’s, I assume he’s chill. But you’re right.” Jeonghan turns his head with surprising quickness. “If you can’t be Specs, what do you want to be?”

Sighing internally, Wonwoo gives in and takes the cup from Seokmin, “I’m Wonwoo. I’m the guy from 312? Next door? Look, is Soonyoung here?”

“Of course he is! He lives here! Where else would he be? Is he moving?” Seokmin tilts his head, a bit like a confused puppy, and Wonwoo almost lets himself feel endeared before the first beats of “Supa Luv” begin bumping from the speakers. 

“MY JAMMMM!” Seokmin bounces away to the center of the living room to join a tall boy in a dress shirt, already unbuttoned to the third button, in some kind of flailing dance. 

As Wonwoo’s eyes adjust, he viscerally remembers all the dorm parties he regretted bothering to show up at. He spots Minghao...inexplicably wearing sunglasses indoors...sipping a glass of wine in an armchair that seems almost impossibly lumpier than the couch. Even without having had a mouthful of punch, his head is already spinning. Any hope for progress on his chapter might be long gone at this point...but it’s the principle of the matter. He resolves to look for Soonyoung himself, but his thoughts are interrupted by Jeonghan’s shrill yelling.

“Soonyoung-ah! Soonyoung-ah! Yo, the neighbor’s here!”

Wonwoo prays his eyelid twitch isn’t showing when Soonyoung comes bounding out of the kitchen. Even in the low light, anyone can see he’s flushed and pink down to his chest from god knows how much alcohol. He looks around for a second, disoriented by the cacophony of sound, before he spots Jeonghan and Wonwoo still standing by the shoe rack. Breaking into a wide smile, he wipes a little bit of sweat with his tank top and strides over. All of a sudden the room feels bright, illuminated by Soonyoung’s energy, and Wonwoo almost forgets to be angry. Almost, that is, until Soonyoung is crowing right into his ear.

“Wonwoo! Wonwooooooo!” Lips round, Soonyoung extends the last vowel into a howl and nearly spits into Wonwoo’s ear canal. 

“Yes, hi, that’s me. Look, I…” Wonwoo tries to ignore the way Jeonghan giggles before he turns back to the party.

“You made it! I didn’t know if you got the invitation I put in your mailbox or anything, but I was really hoping you’d drop by. I see you’ve already met Jeonghan, and I know you met Minghao in the trash room the other day, but let me introduce you to everyone else.” Soonyoung’s eyes are shining as he grabs Wonwoo’s hand to pull him deeper inside. His grip is sweaty, but warm in a way that makes the hair on Wonwoo’s arms stand up. 

“What? Soonyoung, look...I’ve got a lot of work to get done and I really need…”

“Guys! Guys, this is Wonwoo! He just moved to the City.” A number of heads turn in their direction, but Wonwoo feels more frantic with the need to escape with every passing second. 

“Wonwoo, what are you drinking? Do you want a beer instead? Do you want some food? We’ve got chicken in the kitchen and I think there’s going to be...Wonwoo?”

The blood starts rushing to Wonwoo’s ears. Soonyoung is nice, solicitous, warm--“ _hot_ ,” his brain provides, and it’s all just too much. It’s too hot in this room, the music too fucking loud, everyone too fucking bright and pretty, and he just wants to work on his damn manuscript. Wonwoo jerks his hand away from Soonyoung. The wounded expression on the other man’s face nearly gives him pause, but it’s nearly 1AM, and, while the city might not sleep, he needs to at some point.

“Soonyoung. I do not want beer, I do not want food. I want quiet.” Wonwoo’s voice goes cold, yet still strangely loud over the music. “I have a life and deadlines and a bedtime. I don’t know you, I don’t know if I’m going to know you, but if we’re going to share a wall, I need you to at least...turn your damn music down.”

Wonwoo places his cup of punch down on the floor with a thunk, before turning on his heel and walking back out the door. He knows he made a scene, that he was being over-dramatic and demanding and had probably already ruined things with the neighbors. But the prospect of a soft bed, with a soft cat, and _blessed quiet_ after a day when the words either came out in a rushed tangle or...just not at all...was worth the risk of seeming like an asshole. And in any case, it was Soonyoung who was guilty of false neighbor advertising. He collapses into bed with a sigh and falls asleep before hearing the quiet exodus from next door.

The next morning, he feels vaguely hungover. Secondhand intoxication? He shuffles to get the morning paper, but finds it paired with a plastic bag. He takes both to his kitchen table, opening the bag to find a note on top of a blue Tupperware. 

“ _Really sorry about last night. I should have been a more considerate neighbor...much less a friend. If you’ll let me try again, coffee on me? - SY_ ” Underneath, ten digits and the cutest apologetic cat sticker Wonwoo thinks he’s ever seen. 

Curiosity gets the better of him, and he opens the container to see what’s inside. The sweet smell of cake greets him, along with a cursive “Ha” and “Bi” in bright orange frosting. His heart drops. 

“I’m...an asshole,” he mutters. Ophelia looks up at him, her expression a mixture of intrigue and judgment, and Wonwoo honestly feels like he deserves it. He takes out the note and carefully hangs it on the refrigerator...and thinks maybe he should be the one buying the coffee. 


	3. take your time

Wonwoo turns on the sink and rinses out the rest of the rice before heading next door to return the container. This is also part of the ritual. Or, at least, it has been for the last couple of years. Every time Soonyoung goes out onto his fire escape to get a little fresh air...and sees Wonwoo’s little night light on well past his bedtime, the little blue Tupperware is waiting the next morning. It’s never anything fancy...just simple stuff that reminds him of his childhood. But he eats it every time, letting it satisfy the hunger in his belly...even if he knows it just makes the hunger in his heart grow worse. 

So he’s in love with Soonyoung. And everyone in their friend group knows he’s in love with Soonyoung. And every time he writes something new, there’s always traces of Soonyoung. His smile, his laugh, the way he nearly vibrates out of his skin when he gets excited, the smell of his sweat when he’s just come from the studio, the taste of his lips when they drunkenly hooked up...assuring each other the next morning that it meant nothing. 

Four years of memories sedimented into an archive of features that he gives his heroes and heroines, hoping that Soonyoung never notices...hoping against hope that he does. Jun and Seungkwan have created their own private book club for pointing out every place where Soonyoung’s presence haunts Wonwoo’s words, and he knows that every lime green highlight Jihoon sends back on his manuscripts are accompanied by an eye roll and a muttered “ _why don’t you fucking tell him already?_ ” 

Wonwoo sighs and realizes he’s still in his pajamas. Not that next door hasn’t seen him in this state before, but he figures he should at least run a comb through his hair before going over. 

He knocks once then twice in quick succession, and Minghao pulls the door open after a few seconds of waiting. He smiles and takes the container out of Wonwoo’s hands before waving him in.

“Is Soonyoung already out?” Wonwoo yawns a little as he slides into the familiar guest slippers.

“Yeah, he had an early class at the Y today.” Minghao calls over his shoulder, dragging his feet a little as he walks to the kitchen. “I just put on some water for tea, though, if you want to take a break before going back to it?” He wraps his long cardigan around himself a little more tightly, and Wonwoo can’t say no, especially when he had forgotten to brew a pot of coffee for himself. Minghao had a reputation in their circle for being a little cold and aloof, like Wonwoo. But as the years had gone on and, more often than not, they found themselves next to each other on the couch, smiling gently at some new nonsense Soonyoung was yelling about, Wonwoo had realized the warmth that lurked under the surface.

As Minghao pours tea into two mugs, Wonwoo absentmindedly fiddles with the paint-spattered lace doily on the little table in the corner of the kitchen. 

“What was the class this morning?” 

“Water aerobics for seniors. You know he loves to get them riled up with that dumb ‘All tigers love water’ line.” Minghao rolls his eyes, making his hands into a rough approximation of claws. 

Wonwoo chuckles, as he imagines Soonyoung in his goggles and silly striped swim cap making the neighborhood grandmas swoon while they tread water. Soonyoung was popular for sure… Wonwoo hadn’t lived through him dating Seokmin, Jeonghan...Jihoon for a weird hot second...without knowing this fact like it’s a second skin. Popular and all his breakups ended amicably. But that was just Soonyoung, drawing people into his orbit, and making it so they’d never want to leave. 

Minghao sits down across from Wonwoo, sliding one of the cups toward him with a charcoal-stained hand. 

“You working on a new piece today? Sorry if I interrupted you…”

“Mm?” Minghao hums through the steam rising over the mug. “Never an interruption, just a change in direction. But yeah, I’ve got a new show going up in Bushwick in a couple of weeks. You’re gonna be free by then right?”

Wonwoo’s never missed an opening, but if he’s honest with himself, the wrestling match between him and his next draft is showing no sign of letting up soon.

“Ugh, I hope so...but it’s going to depend on how things are going on the…”

“The newest iteration of ‘I’m in love with my neighbor and too afraid to say it’?”

Wonwoo winces a little after taking a sip of still too hot tea. “Yeah, that.”

Running his hands through his shaggy mullet, Minghao shakes his head a little. “Well, sometimes, I find I need to walk away from a piece in order to find my way back to it… Want to check out what I’ve been working on lately?”

He picks up his mug, tossed a couple years before at a group ceramics outing, and leads Wonwoo down the familiar hallway to his bedroom cum studio. Minghao pulls open a curtain to let more sunlight into the room, motes of dust dancing a bit as Wonwoo’s eyes adjust. Yellow daisies, with roving eyeballs at their center, come together to form an abstracted warning sign--YOU ARE BEING WATCHED--in bold charcoal letters at the center.

“The show’s kind of loosely about the steady encroachment of surveillance culture into our daily lives, but I thought I’d have a little fun with it.”

Wonwoo chuckles to himself before scratching thoughtfully at his stubble and taking another drag of tea. 

***********

“Ay! Watch yourself!!”

 _Shit. That’s a red light._ Wonwoo waves apologetically at the cyclist that had nearly crashed into him, jogging in place at the crosswalk as he waits for the light to turn. It wasn’t enough for him to ruin Soonyoung’s birthday party two weeks ago, now he has to be late to their coffee...meeting _and_ it’s raining? He clutches a paper bag close to his chest, kicking himself for not bringing an umbrella. It had been so bright and sunny in the morning...no one warned him New York summer weather could turn on the drop of a hat.

The weather had seemed like a good omen when he started out the day by nailing his interview for an editorial assistant position at one of the few viable literary magazines still active in Brooklyn. The offer had shown up in his inbox less than an hour after he left, and he practically floated into lunch with Seungkwan and Jun. But now it’s fifteen minutes after 5PM, the streets are crowded with commuters rushing to their next destination, and he and the growingly sodden paper bag are minutes away from making the second-worst third impression Wonwoo can possibly imagine.

A little bell tinkles as he crosses over the threshold into the cafe, Queen of Cups, hair dripping onto his glasses. Wonwoo scans the room until he spots Soonyoung at a table in the back corner, sipping lemonade through a straw and swiping through his phone. His gym bag sits next to him on the bench...probably came straight from work, if his freshly blow dried blonde hair is any indication. His lips are pursed, maybe from the sourness, but tinged with an edge of worry until he looks up to see Wonwoo hurrying over.

“Hey! I was uh, worried you might have gotten lost or something. Wow, you’re...damp.”

Wonwoo shakes his hair a little, earning glares from the patrons nearby. 

“Sorry, sorry, I...just uh, got caught in the rain. Wait, this place is like a block from our apartment how would I-” He cuts himself off, remembering that maybe now isn’t the best time to nitpick about logistics.

“Yeah, that was dumb of me to think…” Soonyoung chuckles abashedly. “What are you drinking? It’s on me. My treat like I said in the note...I’m really sorry again...about the party.” 

He looks down sheepishly, swirling his straw around his cup and making the ice jangle. Wonwoo follows the movement of his fingers and finds himself imagining how warm they might feel pressed to the cool dampness clinging to his skin. He shakes his head.

“No, look, Soonyoung...I fucked this up again. I actually wanted to buy your drink because like...I’m sorry about the other week. I was really out of line and uh...happy birthday.” Wonwoo swallows awkwardly before pulling a stuffed tiger out of the paper bag. It was the first cute thing he saw at the street vendor by their station, and he bought it without a second thought to the practicality of soft fur in sticky summer rain. 

Even so, from the way Soonyoung’s face lights up, he kind of thinks he could have bought about five more.

“Wonwoo...he’s... How did you know? Did Minghao tell you?” Soonyoung gently grabs the plush toy from Wonwoo’s outstretched hands. 

“Uh, I don’t know he just...I guess he reminded me a little of you when I saw him. And I...kinda figured out the birthday thing...from the cake.” Wonwoo blushes and avoids Soonyoung’s eyes.

“Oh, yeah...that.” He pauses, “I hope the cake was good at least? Mingyu...I think you met him? He got it from the bakery he’s working at...they make the pastries here too.”

“Well, then, you don’t have to tell me twice,” Wonwoo grins, suddenly realizing his dash across town had left him hungrier than he realized. “I’m gonna go order something.”

“Oh, shit, yeah...thanks again. You really didn’t have to, Wonwoo.”

“Consider it a housewarming gift...in reverse.”

Soonyoung beams up at him in response, and Wonwoo feels his heart double dutch for a second...before he turns to order a muffin and a hot beverage.

By the time he gets back, Soonyoung is staring at the tiger, eyebrows knit in a little frown. He glances up as Wonwoo sets his dishes down on the table.

“What’s his name?”

“I don’t know. He’s yours. Doesn’t that mean you get to do the naming?”

Soonyoung hums consideringly before taking another sip of his drink. Wonwoo tries not to stare at how his lips, rosy and pink, fit around the straw. 

“Hm…well, if you’ve got Ophelia...then I’ve got Hamlet, fierce Prince of Brooklyn.” Soonyoung holds the tiger to his face and growls, and Wonwoo can’t stop himself from uttering a choked laugh.

“You know things don’t end well for either of them, right?”

“Sure, but...it’s not like we’re doing Shakespeare here,” Soonyoung smirks. “What do I look like? A dramaturge?”

“I could have seen you in a theatre department, not gonna lie… Where’d you do undergrad anyway?”

Soonyoung’s face clouds a little before he answers. “Uh, did a few semesters at NYU, then kinda realized it wasn’t for me. Been in the city ever since, though...dancing and stuff. Used to wait tables a lot, but now I’ve got enough classes strung together that I can just focus on that. It’s nice.”

He trails off.

Wonwoo shifts awkwardly in his chair, not quite knowing what to say. Obviously, not everyone does the college track, and he honestly doesn’t know why he assumed Soonyoung had...much less needed to. He takes a sip of his cappuccino and wracks his brain for a way to carry on. Sure, he’s not the smoothest guy in the world, but something about Soonyoung keeps his foot landing square in his mouth. 

“You should come. I mean...to one of my classes. You should come,” Soonyoung brightens, and Wonwoo breathes a silent sigh of relief at not having to salvage yet another mess he’d made.

“It seems like you could use the workout anyway,” Soonyoung quirks an eyebrow mischievously before taking a final long, noisy drag on his straw.

“Hey, I’ll have you know this is still my winter body. Beach season hasn’t even started yet…”

“It’s almost July, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung deadpans.

“Which means it’s the dead of winter in Australia. I’ve still got time.” Wonwoo flexes a not quite muscular arm and thinks that the way Soonyoung’s laugh rolls out of his body sounds a little like waves softly hitting the sandy beaches back home. 

“Well, Mr. Still Got Time, I don’t because it’s my night to make dinner. Wanna head...home?”

Wonwoo pauses at the way the word drops from Soonyoung’s tongue. Like it’s something not quite shared and not quite theirs but something diagonal to the idea. He wonders how long he can follow the line.

“Yeah, but...next round’s on me. I like this place.” He smiles quietly before tossing back the rest of his cappuccino and sliding his satchel strap across his chest.

“Deal.” Soonyoung throws his bag over his shoulder and clears their table faster than Wonwoo can ever remember seeing. 

“Busboy skills,” Soonyoung winks.

The short walk back to their apartment involves more dodging puddles than actual conversation. But as sunset breaks through the clouds, painting the landscape in silvery gold, Wonwoo thinks he might not hate the city’s unpredictability.


	4. you'll be fine

“Ungh,” Jihoon grunts as he sets the bar back into the rack and sits up from the bench, barely having broken a sweat. “Your turn.”

Wonwoo tugs the velcro of his gloves tight around his wrists before switching places with him, wiggling a little as he settles his back against the vinyl upholstery.

“You ready?” Jihoon slips a second weight off the barbell, adjusting it to something more comfortable for Wonwoo.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

The metal of the bar feels cold even through his lifting gloves, and Wonwoo lets his mind go blank as the motion of his arms repeats, mechanical, simple, easy. Unlike the tangle of plot and words and emotions left on his laptop back home. He supposes not everyone goes to the gym with their editor to see if endorphins will cancel out writer’s block, but he’s glad Jihoon’s chosen the workout date route, rather than endless nagging, or worse...silence.

Jihoon clicks his tongue a little, as Wonwoo’s reps grow more and more strained. 

“What’s going on? I know it’s not fatigue from too much writing...because I didn’t see new pages in my inbox before I got here.”

Wonwoo tries to tune into whatever shitty 150 bpm pop playlist the gym has blasting over the speakers and refocus within his body.

“Ha...hah…yeah, I’m sorry about that. I don’t know why I’m so...ugh...stopped up.” Wonwoo coughs out the last words, as Jihoon helps him re-set the bar into its resting place.

“I know. It’s because it’s your fucking manifesto. It’s your paean to Kwon Soonyoung and the one thousand ways you love him, and you know that once it’s out into the world...this could be it.”

Jihoon’s expression isn’t unkind, or at least, so it seems from Wonwoo’s inverted perspective on the bench. But something a touch heavy hangs in the air between them. 

“It’s not that serious. Look, he’s...not even going to read it like that. He’s had enough chances with the other books anyway.” Shaking his head as he sits up, Wonwoo takes his water bottle from Jihoon’s outstretched hand. 

Jihoon raises an eyebrow and sighs incredulously. “You think…” 

“What?”

“Nothing. Never mind,” Jihoon sighs. 

A little water runs down Wonwoo’s chin before he notices and quickly wipes it up with his T-shirt. He rests his elbows on his knees, still catching his breath a little and studiously avoiding the way Jihoon’s eyes are burning into his skull. The music has shifted to something a bit more laid-back, suitable to the crowd trickling in for the lunchtime yoga class on the second floor. Soonyoung had tried to get him to try it out once, but he quickly discovered the limits of his own flexibility...while trying to keep his mind from pondering the limits of Soonyoung’s. He’s broken out of his thoughts by the sound of Jihoon roughly clearing his throat, fingers gingerly pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I know I’m not supposed to go easy on you...and you’re past the deadline…”

Wonwoo winces. 

“But just...can you let yourself go a little? You don’t always have to swim with your hands tied behind your back, you know. You'll be fine even if you don't.”

The words almost make sense in order, but they just make Wonwoo realize he has no idea when the last time he swam even was. When he was a kid, he used to love the way the water filled his ears when he’d dunk his head under. Pouring into his brain, but not quite, quieting his thoughts until it was just him and the blue, blue tile rippling in front of his goggles. Somewhere along the way, he’d learned to hate the feeling, started to panic when water rushed up his nose. The weightlessness of started to feel like a lack of control, and swimming became a battle to keep himself above water. 

Jihoon throws a towel that hits Wonwoo smack in the face.

“Ow!” Wonwoo pulls it away from his face. “Did you steal this from a hotel?”

“Worry less about where I get my towels and more about your arm strength. You’re slipping, son.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes and lets the cursive resolve into words. 

\-- _KNOCK KNOCK INN--_

***********

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK_

“Alright, I’m coming, I’m coming. Jesus…”

Wonwoo lurches toward the door after taking about 20 seconds too long to untangle himself from his headphones cord. He has no idea who is banging on his door at 5 PM on a fucking Tuesday--interrupting his flow after he’d just settled in with a cup of hot cocoa and the mix of The Decemberists, IU, and Lianne La Havas a classmate had sent him after sophomore fall. 

He stumbles again on the edge of the blue and white braided rug laid out at the edge of his kitchen, a gift from Seungkwan after he’d come over some time at the end of August and tut tutted at how little Wonwoo had done with the place, before nearly crashing into the door and fumbling with the tarnished chain. 

Soonyoung’s hand is poised to knock again, and he makes a little face of surprise as his hand makes contact with air instead of wood.

“Yes?” Wonwoo hisses out, before softening at the sight in front of him. Soonyoung’s bangs are sweaty and plastered to his forehead. He looks a little drowned in the gray hoodie and black sweatpants that Wonwoo now recognizes as his typical work uniform, but the redness on his cheeks still glows with the chill that’s set into the end of the year.

“Hey, uh…” Soonyoung tilts his head to the side and scratches the back of his neck. “This is awkward, but...can I use your shower? Ours is broken.” 

“Broken?” Wonwoo manages to choke out, only really catching the last word of the sentence, too distracted by the curve of Soonyoung’s neck in the shadow cast by his hoodie. Suddenly, the sips of hot chocolate from a minute ago feel like they’re opening a disco in his stomach.

“Yeah, the shower head’s busted. The super’s supposed to come up and take a look tonight, but…”

“But…” Wonwoo sniffs, nose crinkling into a subtle frown.

“Yeah...I came straight from a class.”

“It’s the middle of December. How do you sweat so much?” Wonwoo huffs a little as he swings the door open to let Soonyoung in.

“It’s hot underground! You wouldn’t know…It’s not like you have to commute all the way uptown.” Toeing off his black tennis shoes, Soonyoung pads into the apartment behind him. 

“You couldn’t have sent a text first?”

“My phone’s dead! And besides, I didn’t know about the shower until Minghao told me.”

“Ah…”

“And he said he didn’t think you’d mind.”

Wonwoo tries to hide his smile at the pout in Soonyoung’s voice. “It’s fine, uh, bathroom’s just right there...I’ll find a spare towel or something...uh, do you need a change of clothes or...” 

He no longer hears the soft slap of Soonyoung’s feet against the worn parquet flooring and turns to see him standing in front of the banged-up bookcase he’d saved from college, with a frayed album in hand.

“Is that you?” Soonyoung points a finger to a small photograph in a row of nearly identical blue backgrounds.

Gently plucking the book from Soonyoung’s hands, Wonwoo stares down at the picture. Hair a little longer, messy from having recently been tucked under a beanie...face a little longer too and sporting the barest hint of facial hair.

“Yeah...heh, that’s me. Sophomore year...second year of high school.”

Soonyoung hovers at his shoulder, breath hot against Wonwoo’s cheek. 

“What was it like?”

“Uh, high school?”

“Yeah...you went in the States, right?” Soonyoung lightly taps the cover of the yearbook where it rests in Wonwoo’s hands.

“Yeah, yeah...uh, weird at first I guess? I mean middle school...that’s when we moved here...I mean Colorado, not here...but I got used to it. Hated the cold, though,” He shivers dramatically, earning a chuckle out of Soonyoung.

“I run hot, so it’s never really bothered me.”

Wonwoo resists the urge to point out how he’s been able to tell since the first time they met.

“You’ve been here since middle school then?”

“Nah, my dad got transferred back to Seoul right before my last year of high school, so I finished there...that was honestly weirder than anything.”

“Mm…” Soonyoung gingerly takes the book back from Wonwoo and turns it over in his hands.

“I was always jealous of these...when people would write cute messages to each other in yearbooks in the stupid American teen movies I’d watch at home…”

“Where is...uh...home?”

Wonwoo fiddles with the sleeves of the blue striped dress shirt that he hadn’t bothered to change out of once he got home from the office. In almost half a year of knowing Soonyoung, he realizes he’s never had this conversation. He wonders just how many things he’s assumed...or not...about his neighbor, without actually bothering to ask.

“I went to high school in Seoul...international school.”

“Oh.”

“On scholarship.”

Wonwoo nods a little dumbly at the quick answer to a question that hadn’t even been asked. 

“They kinda expected I’d wind up going to the States for college...maybe didn’t expect that it would wind up like... _this._ ” Soonyoung gestures to his sweaty clothes with a small flourish.

An awkward silence falls between them. Wonwoo desperately wishes he knew what to say in moments like these, how to pull the moment up from the tiny moody shoals that he’d learned Soonyoung was prone to falling into from time to time. Just as he’s about to open his mouth to say some platitude about the journey not the destination, Ophelia makes her way from underneath the couch, snaking her way between Soonyoung’s legs and catching him off-guard. 

“Oh,” he exclaims. “You’ve finally come out to say hello. Don’t you know it’s rude to ignore your guests?” 

She mewls petulantly back up to him before slinking off to a more comfortable spot next to the radiator. 

“Sorry, I didn’t raise her that way,” Wonwoo smiles with a bit of chagrin.

“Oh, I’m sure. A cat comes into the world as-is. Nothing you can do about that…” Soonyoung trails off, as he places the yearbook back in its empty spot on the shelf.

Wonwoo braces again for the slightly uncomfortable lull in conversation, when suddenly his mouth starts moving without his typical 20-second interval of overthinking.

“I...she finally came home with me...I mean to my dorm, around this time a few years ago.” A faint blush lights up his face at the admission. He still feels a tinge of shame at having kept a forbidden cat on university property.

Soonyoung perks up again, cheeks going round as his lips turn up into his more familiar grin. He turns to listen, hood falling back off his head and revealing his messy tickle-me-pink bowl cut, a shift from last month’s icy blue.

“I wasn’t going home for the holidays, so I just worked every day at getting her more familiar with me, coaxing her out of her hiding spots, until I could bring her home.” Maybe if he’s honest, telling the story to Soonyoung now, Wonwoo feels a little more pride than shame at the whole situation.

“Was it too far to fly back to Seoul?”

“No, actually. My parents are in California now...it just didn’t feel like it made sense to travel all the way there just for a few weeks.” That was true, but Wonwoo knows that there was also just something uncomfortable about spending-- _the holidays--_ in a house he’d never lived in...in a rhythm that just felt _off_. His parents had offered to fly him out every year. He’d turned them down each time. 

“Well...what are you doing this year?”

“Mm, just...staying in I guess.” 

“Come over.” 

Wonwoo feels a little bowled over by the insistence in Soonyoung’s voice. He had been looking forward to a quiet few days of Christmas movies, hot cocoa, and naps with the cat on the couch. But, from the glow in Soonyoung’s eyes, the invitation seems impossible to refuse. 

“What? No, no, I can’t...”

“There’s no way that a neighbor of mine is going to spend Christmas all alone. And Minghao and I...well it doesn’t really make sense for us to travel either. So you’re coming over. We’re starting at 5, bring something warm.”

Wracking his mind for a way to gracefully refuse, Wonwoo stammers a bit, as the shorter man crowds further into his space. 

“Consider it a Christmas gift...in reverse,” Soonyoung teases, looking up into Wonwoo’s eyes. He swallows hard. “Your presence at my table is what you can give to me.” 

Soonyoung smiles cheekily, but Wonwoo can feel the undercurrent of sincerity that girds his words...along with the unexpectedly quickening pace of his own heartbeat. It’s not like he’s ever really been able to say no to Soonyoung, not if the last six months of coffee dates, museum trips, and board game nights are any indication.

“Fine, okay, okay,” he concedes. “I’ll be there.”

“Great! And now _I’ll_ be in your shower!” Soonyoung trots down the hall, black gym bag in tow.

“It’s the door on the left,” Wonwoo calls after him, not quite knowing what to do now that he’s been left alone in his living room with his vague thoughts about the holidays, what to bring to this impromptu potluck, and the strange pressure in his chest at the thought of Soonyoung...in his shower. 

Soonyoung pulling off his hoodie.

Soonyoung stepping out of his sweatpants. 

Soonyoung...legs longer than they seem...stepping gently into the shower.

Soonyoung, hair slicked back under the warm spray, moaning a little as the heat melts into his sore muscles. 

_What the hell, Wonwoo._

Blinking rapidly, Wonwoo wipes a hand over his face and retreats into his bedroom. Not for the first time, he desperately wishes New York apartment walls were thicker. His shut bedroom door does nothing to drown out the pitter patter of droplets as they hit Soonyoung’s-- _naked_ \--skin. 

By the time the water cuts off, Wonwoo has shuffled through three different playlists and two different podcasts in attempts to recalibrate his mind. It’s all in vain.

It also doesn’t help that Soonyoung apparently thinks it’s appropriate to swing open Wonwoo’s bedroom door, only a dark blue bath towel wrapped around his waist...and wearing the fucking bunny ear hooded towel Wonwoo thought he had buried beyond discovery in some forgotten bathroom drawer.

“I forgot my soap, so I used yours...I hope that’s okay,” he smiles sheepishly, and Wonwoo has to bite his lip to not laugh...or scream. He takes a deep breath.

“That’s not the only thing of mine you used…”

Soonyoung lets out a low giggle.

“It was just...cute...it didn’t seem like you, so I thought I’d try it?” He flops his head to the side, bouncing the bunny ears ever so lightly. Wonwoo wants to die a little. 

“They’re from my mom…” he manages to say instead. “She sometimes forgets I’m not six anymore.”

“Well, that’s great for me if it means I get to see you in these,” he tweaks the ears. “...or something even cuter someday.” Soonyoung smirks, and if Wonwoo didn’t know any better, he’d think the other man could see the way his ears are burning in the dusky light.

“Just...go get changed, please?” 

“As you wish!” Soonyoung tosses him one last smile before stepping back into the hallway...wetly.

Sighing deeply, Wonwoo peels himself off the bed and heads to make a pot of chamomile, or literally anything to take the edge off his nerves right now.

After ten minutes, Soonyoung is fully dressed, coiffed, and sauntering into Wonwoo’s cramped kitchenette.

“The new and improved Kwon Soonyoung,” he crows with a little toss of his hair. 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

“Why didn’t you just shower at the gym anyway?” As Soonyoung bends over to stuff his sweaty clothes into his gym bag, Wonwoo notices his fitted slacks and clinging, hunter green sweater.

“I’ll have you know Iiiiii...have a hot date tonight,” Soonyoung drawls, cheeks flushing a little pink again at the admission.

“Oh?” Wonwoo raises his eyebrows and tries to ignore the acute twist of discomfort in his belly. “Someone I know?” 

“Yeah, actually...Jeonghan? You remember him from the last movie night we did at our place, right?”

Indeed, Wonwoo does. All of a sudden, Jeonghan’s bright smile, all teeth and mischief and _fun_ flashes into his mind. He had noticed the way they curled up to each other next on the couch, Soonyoung’s head eventually resting in Jeonghan’s lap, but somehow didn’t put two and two together. Of course, the two of them would have something going on...if he thinks about it, they’re practically made for each other.

“Oh? Yeah...that’s great. Really great. Tell him I say hi.”

“I will!” Soonyoung beams, picking up his bag and heading toward the door. “And I’ll see you Christmas night...5 on the dot?”

“You know it…” Wonwoo feels like he has to get his bearings, say something kind and sweet and polite...an emotional antacid for the feelings threating to come up his throat. Feelings that have no reason to be there in the first place. “Have a good night, Soonyoungie.”

“Thanks, Wonwoo. I will,” he waggles his eyebrows a bit before closing the door behind him. 

Wonwoo slumps onto the counter before taking a ginger sip at his quickly cooling mug of tea.

*

He doesn’t make it on the night of the 25th. Chalk it up to work exhaustion, or the seasonal flu, or something else entirely, Wonwoo spends the night drifting in and out of sleep under Ophelia’s watchful gaze, only occasionally getting up for a glass of water. He can nearly hear the disappointment in Soonyoung’s response to his text, but better to let him down him than spread whatever...crud has settled inside his body.

After a fitful night’s rest, he wakes up and creaks toward the door, head still pounding now that his last dose of aspirin has worn off. The newspaper scratches against his sensitive fingertips, and, as he opens his bleary eyes to take a closer look, he sees Soonyoung’s sturdy blue tupperware next to a small box wrapped in bright red paper and tied with a golden bow. 

His nose is far too clogged to smell...or really taste, but he opens the container to see a row of steamed dumplings carefully partitioned from a couple of Pillsbury ready-made Christmas cookies. Wonwoo cracks a smile, wincing as the skin pulls tight on his dry lips, before moving on to the shiny box and ripping off the wrapping paper.It may no longer be Christmas morning, but he feels the eager jitteriness in his hands as pries open the cardboard box. 

Inside, a small, plastic tiger figure, base about the size of his palm, smiles up at him. Wonwoo lifts it out of the box and turns it over consideringly-- _it’s cute alright, but--_ then feels the card taped to its bottom.

_“Thought you could use a little company when you’re burning the midnight oil. Merry Christmas, Wonwoo. - SY”_

Wonwoo flicks the switch that had been hidden underneath the note, letting out a little hum of pleasure as the tiger’s face lights up.

It doesn’t mean anything. He knows it doesn’t. Soonyoung is dating Jeonghan...well, going on dates with Jeonghan. But if...no… But what if...Soonyoung…what if he had gone out? What if he had gone out, days ago...to get him something? Wonwoo imagines him sitting at the little kitchen table Minghao had bought from a fall rummage sale, tongue sticking out of his mouth and face screwed up in concentration as he taped down the corners of the wrapping paper. What if he had felt just as excited as Wonwoo when he left it outside his door? What if Soonyoung was waiting for his text right now...to say how much he loved it? 

Wonwoo’s thoughts are cut off short by the sound of impish laughter, finding its way in from the hallway. He thinks he’d know it anywhere. 

_“Soonyoung-ah, you ready to go?”_

_“Yeah, yeah, just let me get my jacket.”_

_“You look cute today, you know.”_

_“Stoppp, don’t flatter me, hyung.”_

_“I’m not! You do! But don’t worry, I won’t be so nice when I see what you can do on the ice.”_

_“Just so long as you buy me a coffee after.”_

_“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go.”_

Wonwoo doesn’t know why he’s still listening. Why he hasn’t walked away...why he hasn’t taken another aspirin for the headache that’s creeping back behind his eyes. He sweeps up his newspaper, sticks the leftovers in his fridge, leaves the tiger lonely on his counter...and slips back into bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haaahahaha...I should have known better than to trust myself with a consistent posting schedule. 😭 Sorry for the late update, people...
> 
> Assorted Notes:
> 
> *The mixtape that Wonwoo's listening to is [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ZamxLIRgM5hrC713etkTP?si=h31gn0NJS-acAxM7tAdqhg&utm_source=copy-link). (And yes, he did get so stressed about Soonyoung in his shower that he forgot about the hot cocoa he was drinking at the start of the chapter.)
> 
> *If anyone is wondering about the timeline, present day is happening in our present day (2021), and WW graduated college and moved to NYC in the summer of 2017. (So, there's about a four year window in the time skips that have happened thus far, and everyone's a little aged up from our universe!)
> 
> *I just really wanted to see KSY in [this](https://www2.hm.com/ja_jp/productpage.0874735001.html). Is that a crime?
> 
> *And...the eponymous [night light](https://www.smokonow.com/collections/jojo-tiger/products/jojo-tiger-ambient-light).
> 
> Thanks for reading, and if you're enjoying, please drop a comment down below or send me a message on [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/TheS_standsfor)!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to ao3 user historiologies for organizing this smorgasbord of Soonwoo goodness, and please check out all the other fics and art being posted in the South x Southwest collection. 
> 
> Thanks as well to my tireless beta readers who give me pep talks and tea while I cry over my keyboard and to ao3 user osyeon for gifting me the eponymous nightlight. 🐯💡
> 
> And most of all, thanks to you for reading and coming along on this journey as I attempt to write a non-linear fic for the first time. Let me know what you think! <3
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/TheS_standsfor)/[cc](https://curiouscat.me/TheS_standsfor)


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